Date: Fri, 25 Nov 2005 07:52:13 -0600
From: Amber Fountaine
Subject: "Stuffed Turkey"
Amber Fountaine stories contain sexually explicit descriptions of
consensual sexual activity and are not suitable for reading by anyone under
the age of 18 or anyone offended by reading such material. These acts
include gay and bisexual activity as well as water sports, diapers,
cross-dressing and other fetishes and perversions that may please the
author's whims. All characters are fictional but are based on the author's
experiences as well as the experiences of those that have written him.
Stuffed Turkey (TV/Bisexual/Urination)
by Amber Fountaine
I should have known when my ex-girlfriend invited me for Thanksgiving dinner
that it would be a very different kind of day than what was happening in
traditional American homes across the country. Angie and I had our
disparities on a few things and that had led to our breaking up after five
years of living together. But the one area she and I had always seen eye to
eye on was sex. Especially if it was what most people would consider kinky
sex.
Still, Thanksgiving is Thanksgiving and family is family, so I never
suspected that even Angie would indulge in any sexual shenanigans on
Thanksgiving Day, especially in front of her family. But then, to Angie,
Thanksgiving is just another meal to provide the body with energy and her
family, as I discovered, didn't include anyone that was a real relative. Yet
when she invited me, there had never been a hint, in the way Angie had
always done when we'd been together, that she planned anything other than a
traditional Thanksgiving dinner 'for friends and family', as she'd put it.
"If you don't have anything else planned, please join us," she'd told me.
"I've got a huge turkey," she said, pointing at the bird in the basket, "and
not near enough mouths to feed it to."
Of course Angie had always been good at talking me into anything. And if
there was any chance of sex involved - that chance being like 99% of the
time - Angie had this awesome way of giving me a sultry look that would
totally destroy any chance I had of telling her "no". I had no defense
against 'that look'.
The way it happened was, I'd run into her at a supermarket the previous
weekend; the first time I'd seen her in months. We'd chatted amiably enough
for a few minutes and then she'd pointed to the big bird in her basket and
given me her invitation. And she'd done it without once giving me 'that
look'.
But just to be sure, I'd asked, "Will anyone I know be there?"
"Probably not," she'd told me. "I don't know who you know any more. But I
don't run with the same crowd we used to."
That was sort of the answer I was looking for. We'd been involved in the
swinging lifestyle from the very beginning of our relationship. In fact we'd
met at a party when Angie heard there was a sissy guy in panties there that
loved to eat fresh fucked pussy and she had twice sat on my face for a
cleaning before giving me her name. But as much as I'd enjoyed those days,
without her I'd given it up and apparently she had too.
"Me either," I'd confessed. "It was a lot of fun, but . . . I guess we all
have to grow up sometime."
"I'll bet that doesn't mean you've given up wearing diapers," she'd teased.
"I can't picture that ever happening. And I'll bet you probably have a sissy
friend you play with sometimes."
I hadn't even responded to that because I didn't want the conversation to
get off on a sexual tack. I had little or no will power where Angie was
concerned and I knew if we started talking about some of the kinky sexual
things we'd enjoyed, I'd be following her home - or anywhere else she wanted
to lead me. I certainly wasn't going to go into detail about my current
relationship with another sissy named 'Amanda'.
So when she didn't get a response, she told me, "Please come over. You
haven't seen the house I bought out in Britton Heights. It's got a kitchen
you'd love!"
She always had known how to push my buttons. When we were together, she and
I had often talked of the house we wanted to build and while we had
different ideas about location and landscaping and whether the fireplace
should be in the living room or the den, we'd been in total agreement when
it came to the size and style of kitchen we both wanted.
There were two things, other than my attire of course, that brought my sissy
feminine side to its greatest peak. Number one was on my knees paying oral
homage to a nice hard cock. Number two was dressing as the lady of the house
and fixing fabulous meals in the kitchen for our guests. Number two was
often the warm-up act for number one.
But Angie never gave me 'that look', nor had she indicated that I would be
doing any of the cooking, so I assumed that she had changed a good deal
during the year and a half since we'd broken up. Giving her the benefit of
the doubt, I'd tentatively accepted her offer and we'd swapped phone numbers
and addresses with a promise to confirm.
That had given me four days and five nights to consider if seeing Angie
again, even at something as harmless as a family gathering, would be a wise
idea. During those four days and five nights I weighed the situation
carefully, and came to the conclusion that I'd become a much stronger person
in the last eighteen months since the Memorial Day that I'd moved out. By
Wednesday, I was so full of myself that I was sure if Angie answered the
door bare ass naked, I could look her square in the eye and tell her 'no'.
So I'd called her that afternoon, told her I'd be there the next day, and
smugly patted myself on the back. "John," I'd told myself, looking in the
mirror on my office wall, "I think you're finally over that woman and in
control of your life."
But less than an hour later, I'd gone from the converted bedroom in my
two-bedroom apartment that I used for an office, to my bedroom, opened the
right side of my closet where 'Joan' kept her things, and began to change.
And since I could sleep late the next morning, enjoying some extra time in
bed by myself, little Joanie had also put on nice thick diapers and had
begun to wet herself.
Not long after dark, little Joanie had needed her diaper changed. But I'd
also known that I'd be playing with Joanie's big clitty if I did that. So
deciding to wait until the next morning to enjoy a leisurely cum, I'd
changed into a nightie and slowly rubbed myself through the wet diaper and
ruffled plastic diaper cover. Not enough to make myself cum, but enough for
me to relive in my mind all the wonderful events that had happened to me
during those five years I'd lived with Angie. It had been my usual way of
drifting off to sleep the last few nights since our chance meeting at the
supermarket and the wet diaper seemed like the perfect touch for those
memories.
Right after Angie had introduced herself to me at the party where we met,
she helped me wipe my face of the residue of cum from her pussy and even
used some of her lipstick to redo my makeup. "You really do love cum, don't
you Missy," she told me.
"Joan," I reminded her. "Yeah I do. Especially when I can get it from a
pussy as sweet as yours."
"Thank you," she told me, patting my cheek. Then she put a finger behind my
ear, "I love those earrings. Pierced ears - you really get into this sissy
stuff huh?"
"Like the song says, 'I Enjoy Being a Girl,' and everything that goes with
it."
"Do you only eat cum from a pussy or do you suck cock too?"
"I love to suck cock," I admitted. "And I damn near shoot off myself when a
guy cums in my mouth. But at these parties there never seems to be enough
cock to go around. If I started licking dick, all the women here would have
a fit. So I just help the ladies bring them back to life and get my cum
second hand. Besides, there's an extra in getting it that way."
"You mean the taste of the woman too?"
"Yeah, that's a bonus for sure. But what I meant was, if you suck off a guy,
he cums one time. But if I lick cum out of a sweet little cunt like yours,
the woman usually cums several times. I love it when I can make a woman have
an orgasm several times with my tongue like you did."
"Can I watch you suck cock?" she asked.
"Sure," I told her, happy to show off my skills. "Follow me."
We'd both come to the party with a date and her date was one of the guys I
sucked to get him hard for her to fuck. Then I licked her clean again and
him too. We did two other guys that way and it appeared to me that she
didn't even try to orgasm while she was fucking, saving her big climax for
when I ate her. Once, she even started to pee in my mouth when she orgasmed
and I encouraged her to continue. She tried and couldn't but promised she'd
try again later. I'm not sure how many more times we might have repeated
that if my date hadn't caught up with me about then, telling me she was
fucked out and wanted to go home.
Just before we left, Angie slipped me a piece of paper with her number on it
and told me to call her. I did - just as soon as I got home. She wasn't home
yet and I left a message on her machine. I was so anxious to see her again
that I never took into consideration that she might be living with the guy
she'd come to the party with, or that she might have been married for that
matter. It wasn't unusual at those parties for a guy to show up with a wife
that wasn't his. While 'Mr. Jones' was off playing pool with the boys, 'Mrs.
Jones' might be naked in the backyard pool with her lover and the rest of
us.
"You must still be horny," she teased me when she called back the next day.
"Didn't you get enough last night?"
"The only time was with you," I told her. "I really don't try to get off a
lot at those parties. I try to see how many others I can get off instead."
"No wonder you shot such a big load in my mouth. Poor baby hadn't cum in a
week."
"Damn near," I admitted. I'd been on the road with a guy from work that
would have frowned on sleeping anywhere near 'Joan' and I never masturbated
when I wasn't dressed like a girl. I told Angie about that and it began a
conversation that lasted at least two hours. During that time I told her all
about how I'd started dressing as Joan in my teens, some ten years earlier,
and had done it steadily once I was away from home. I'd had my first
experience with a man before I dressed up, but my second and every one after
that had been as 'Joan'. I told her about the women I'd dated and how some
enjoyed 'Joan' and some couldn't stand the thought of being in the same room
with a guy that loved to wear sexier lingerie than they did.
She laughed about that and then told me about her brief but unhappy
marriage. She'd been a virgin on her wedding day, as had her husband. She'd
kept her virginity for moral reasons and it soon became apparent to her that
her husband was a virgin because he was afraid of sex with a woman. The more
she pestered him for sex, the more he drew away from her. Faced with the
reality of divorce or an endless series of affairs, she'd left him to enjoy
her new sexual freedom, eventually finding her way into a swingers lifestyle
group. "If I ever marry again," she told me, "It's gonna be to someone I
meet at one of those parties."
"You met me at one of those parties," I reminded her before I thought about
what I was saying. We'd barely known each other for less than 24 hours and I
was all but proposing. But she laughed about it and remarked that she
wouldn't mind having a cocksucker for a husband if he was honest about it.
Then she asked why I'd wanted her to pee in my mouth.
Since she'd been so receptive and wanted honesty, I went on to tell her how
much pleasure I get from pee play. I'd enjoyed wetting myself as far back
into my childhood as I could remember. When I was smaller, I wouldn't do it
that often and would tell my mom I'd had an accident. But when I was old
enough to use my mom's washing machine, I did it a lot more often and didn't
have to tell anyone. Over the years since, there'd been a couple of women
and several guys that would let me enjoy the taste of their piss.
She admitted to being a bedwetter and being diapered into her teens and
having a girlfriend in high school that had also enjoyed pee play and had
taught Angie to enjoy it too. "I haven't had anyone to do that with in ten
years, but I think I'd like to," she told me.
We began dating the next weekend and by the end of the following month, we
were living together and taking our turn hosting the kind of parties like
the one where we'd met. Angie's nipples and clit were the size of my
fingertips and I couldn't get enough of sucking on them. That's where she
got the idea that I might really be a big baby and ought to be back in
diapers. She teased me about it and I never took her seriously until my
birthday.
That's when I opened a box that was big enough to contain a large TV and
found she'd gotten me a layette for 'Baby Joanie'. She'd spent over a month
assembling all the things in the box and the whole time had been teasing me
about how much fun it would be if we wore diapers and wet them. Pee play had
become a regular part of our lovemaking and the orgasms she had when I ate
her, and she let her bladder go at the same time, were awesome. I'm amazed
the neighbors never called the law.
Since it was my birthday, I was diapered first and she was the mommy. The
following night it was her turn in diapers and I was the mommy. We continued
to go out as Angie and Joan, picking up men and sharing them. But the diaper
and pee play stuff we kept to ourselves. It was about the only thing we
didn't share with everyone we knew.
Eventually even the people at work found out about 'Joan'. I was spending
every moment away from work as either Joan or Joanie so I guess it was
inevitable that someone from work would find out. When I started getting
teased and ridiculed, I told them all to fuck off and quit, starting to work
from home on my own. While that led to some of the greatest times in our
lives, with me staying dressed as Joan or in wet diapers for weeks at a
time, it also led to the problems that drove us apart.
For almost a year, while I got started on my own, my financial contributions
were dismal at best. In truth, Angie supported the both of us on secretary's
pay. And while I loved being feminine and Angie's little sissy in many ways,
there was just enough testosterone floating through my sissy system that it
bothered me that Angie was the breadwinner. Then when my income surpassed
anything we'd hoped for and I thought that problem was behind us, Angie
inherited her uncle's business.
She went from being his secretary to being President of the company with a
salary over six digits. That was bad enough. But since she had no earthly
idea how to run a plastics company and I damn sure couldn't help her, she
decided to sell the company while it was still making money.
She became an instant multi-millionaire and while it was exciting at first,
my ego couldn't handle it. I knew the only way to get away from Angie was to
quit cold turkey and it was the toughest and roughest thing I ever did in my
life. I picked Memorial Day weekend to move out while she was out of town
visiting relatives, leaving her a long letter explaining why, and asked that
she please not try to contact me. I knew one look into those deep dark eyes
would have me right back wrapped around her little finger. 'The look' did it
every time.
Eventually I began to date again and even tried sex with a few of them. But
I'm sure they went home thinking it was the worst they'd ever had and I felt
the same way. Plain vanilla sex, after living with someone like Angie, just
didn't seem to be worth the effort. Luckily, about a year ago I found a
fellow sissy, Amanda, to play with and for the last year, that's been my
only sexual outlet - except for 'Rosie Palm' of course. Amanda enjoys
diapers and piss play as much as I do and it's a toss up as to which of us
likes to suck cock more. But unlike the old days, we only suck each other.
We get together once a week at my place while Amanda's wife, Virginia, puts
in a day of volunteer work at the local Botanical Center. Virginia has met
John, knows about 'Joan' and the fun Amanda has with me. While she has no
desire to join us, Amanda says she gets hot as hell when he tells her about
it later.
So that's pretty much where I was at when I rang Angie's doorbell yesterday.
"I'm jealous," I told her as soon as she opened the door. "This house is
gorgeous - but then, so are you." I figured a little good old-fashioned
flattery wouldn't hurt and she was dressed up great. Also, in truth I was a
bit jealous. I knew that was at least a $500 dress she was wearing to cook
in and I didn't have one that nice to wear on a date - assuming I'd ever get
the chance to date as 'Joan' again.
And I shouldn't have let the little apron she was wearing fool me. It didn't
take me but a few minutes to discover Angie had a full-time, live-in maid
that seemed to know her way around a kitchen - her kitchen. As Angie tried
to show me the kitchen, Marla let us know in very subtle ways that we were
in her way in her kitchen.
Then Angie took me out to the den to introduce me to the rest of her guests.
I've always had a bit of a problem remembering names and Angie should have
known to give me something besides their names to help me. But for some
reason, instead of telling me the relation or relationship, like, 'this is
my sister,' or 'and this is her husband,' she just went down the line giving
me their names. She introduced me to six people in as many seconds and six
seconds after that I don't think I could have called any of them by name and
got it right.
So rather than embarrass myself trying, I took a seat in the corner where I
had a good view of the big plasma screen TV on the wall and the
Lions/Falcons football game. I'm not much of a football fan, but I had a
vested interest in the game. Amanda is from an Atlanta suburb, I had a
cousin that worked for the Detroit Lions selling season tickets, and
Virginia's family was from a Detroit suburb. So we'd all made a bet on the
outcome of the game. If Atlanta won, I had to be Amanda's slave for one
weekend and so did Virginia - but not at the same time of course.
And if Detroit won, Amanda would serve as my slave for a weekend and do the
same for Virginia. I considered it one of those kind of bets where even the
loser wins. Amanda and I had been looking for a good excuse to spend a whole
weekend together and this bet had Virginia's approval.
As I half-heartedly watched the game, I also watched the interaction between
the other guests, trying to determine who was with whom. At the same time, I
could tell that they were trying to discreetly check me out and I had to
wonder if Angie had told any of them about our past. Once, when I dropped a
chip and bent over to pick it up, it seemed like the whole bunch was looking
at my back, as if they were trying to determine if I was wearing a bra under
my shirt or my butt was padded to the point that I might have on diapers. I
wasn't wearing either and I seriously doubted they could see my panty lines
with the slacks I was wearing and wrote it off to an overactive imagination.
I wondered if one of the guys was Angie's date or boyfriend or whatever.
She'd told me that I was welcome to bring a friend, "of either sex," she'd
teased, but I'd told her I'd be coming alone. She hadn't given me any
indication as to whether she was seeing someone or not. Knowing her like I
did, I couldn't imagine Angie going without sex - and lots of it from
someone.
We broke for dinner when the two remaining guests, Carla and Connie, finally
arrived. It was half-time and it appeared that Amanda would be the big
winner. As I ate, I wondered which of the many things we'd discussed would
be my penalty for loosing the bet. So far Detroit hadn't scored a single
point. Not that I worried. I was as familiar with her limits as she was with
mine. She'd never insist that Joan do anything that Joan wouldn't have loved
to do anyway.
As to my present company, they all seemed so much tamer than any of the
people that Angie and I had known together. There were numerous risque
comments, but nothing on the order of what we would have considered regular
conversation just a few years back. I think the lewdest remark was when one
of the men pointed at the turkey with it's two legs spread and the gaping
hole full of stuffing and told me, "From the position that thing is in and
the size of that hole, I gotta believe it's a hen. Sorta reminds me of a
girl I knew in college."
Angie had a dining room table that looked like some of the huge boardroom
tables that I'd seen. It looked like it could seat 20 without a problem and
there were only ten of us, but Marla had set it up buffet style so that we
helped ourselves and then spread out through the den and living room to eat
off of the fanciest teak folding tables that I'd ever seen. Angie always had
good taste and now that she had the money to go with it, she made the most
of it.
Carla had taken my chair in the corner, so I sat next to Connie on the
couch. When Connie put her hand on my thigh every time she talked to me, I
wondered about it. But then I noticed it was part of a pattern. She'd chew a
mouthful of food, reload her fork, put her hand on my thigh to ask me a
question, and keep it there while she chewed and I answered. Then she'd take
her hand away while she loaded her fork again and repeat the whole
procedure. It seemed innocent enough at first, but each time she turned to
ask me a question, she shifted a little and that made her hand land a little
higher up my thigh until the side of her hand was hitting the growing lump
in my panties. I was sure Connie had to notice my growing erection and I
quickly looked around the room to see if anyone else did.
Everyone seemed to be in a conversation of their own or they were busy
watching the game. Except for one. Angie was looking at me and grinning and
when she realized I knew she'd caught me, she gave me 'that look'.
Suddenly I felt like a trapped animal. But again, I wrote it off to an
overactive imagination. After all, this was Thanksgiving, not some weekend
orgy. At those parties we were usually naked or down to our sexy lingerie
before we got to the introductions. Deciding that I needed another glass of
wine, and getting away from Connie for a few minutes might be a good idea, I
held my napkin in front of me to hide the lump in my slacks and offered to
get Connie a refill too. But before I could reach for Connie's glass, Marla
appeared with the wine bottle in her hand and filled both our glasses.
So much for that ploy. I couldn't think of another excuse that wouldn't
sound bogus, so I had to sit back down. That's when I noticed that when
Connie had held her glass for Marla to fill it, she'd moved over a few more
inches and when I sat down, our legs were rubbing against each other. And
Connie was making damn sure I knew it wasn't by accident.
For the next 30 minutes, I watched the game, ate slowly, and tried to not
let Connie's attention bother me. But with all the blood gone to fill my
little head, my big one was operating at a handicap. Detroit finally scored
a touchdown and I was watching the screen when it happened and never saw it.
It seemed like the game ended at about the same time as the dinner and
dessert. There was talk from a couple of people about going to some bar that
seemed to be their regular hangout to watch the Cowboys/Broncos game. I had
no interest in that whatsoever, but it would offer me a good reason to leave
and if I didn't show up at the bar, who would be the wiser?
But I couldn't leave without saying 'thank you' and 'goodbye' to Angie and
went looking for her, starting in the kitchen.
The last thing I expected was to find her and Marla in the middle of a
passionate embrace, their tongues dueling for space in the other's throat. I
made an effort to back out of the room unnoticed but with my luck that would
have been impossible. Angie spotted me and broke apart from Marla. They
turned to me, their arms around each other as Angie brushed her ample tits
against Marla's.
"Remember when you used to dress up like this and be my maid?" Angie teased.
Remember - shit - it was all I'd been thinking about for most of the last
week. But before I could give her an answer, she really floored me.
"Don't you think Marty makes a pretty girl? And she's almost as good as you
when she puts on her French Maid outfit."
I think my mouth was moving but there weren't any words coming out. It had
never occurred to me that Angie might want another cross-dresser for a maid.
Worse, they were the ones being naughty and I was the one that was
embarrassed. Then I was saved by the bell. Or in this case, by the ringing
of my cell phone. Instinctively I knew it would be Amanda and a quick glance
confirmed it. I didn't want to talk to him about paying off on our wager in
front of Angie and Marla, but when I put the call on voice mail and tried to
hook the phone back on my belt, it fell from my shaky hands and Angie
scooped it up like Atlanta had been doing with Detroit passes.
I've never been much of a gadget freak and still had the same basic cell
phone I'd had when Angie and I had been together. So before I could say a
word, she'd pushed the right buttons and as the call went through, she
asked, "Who is Andy Faulkner?"
"A friend of mine," I told her. Then, trying to make it all sound innocent,
I opened my big mouth and added, "He's probably calling to rag me about
winning our bet on the football game."
"When did you start betting on football? That . ." Her sentence was cut
short when she heard Andy answer the call. And before she could say
anything, Andy began to taunt me, thinking it was me calling him back.
Angie had turned the volume up to max and all three of us could hear Andy
say, "Hi Joanie - ready to be my little cock sucking pussy boy slave for the
next three days?
Marla smiled and so did Angie as she asked me, "Should I tell him 'yes'?
Looks like neither of us has really changed."
Then when I couldn't get out a 'yes' or 'no' fast enough to suit her, she
held the phone to her ear and said, "Hi. This is Angie, Miss Joanie's
ex-girlfriend. You don't know me but I sure know Miss Joanie and she'd love
to be your cock sucking pussy boy. If you'd like to come over to my house,
I'll have her all dolled up and ready for you when you get here."
I couldn't hear the other side of the conversation, but from the way Angie
was nodding her head and smiling, I knew Amanda was agreeing with her.
They talked back and forth for a minute or so and then Angie turned to
Marla. "Take Miss Joanie to your room and find her something sexy to wear.
And tell Connie and Carla not to leave." And all the while, she kept giving
me 'that look'. Maybe that's why I meekly followed Marla out of the room.
Marla, it turned out, was a few years older than Angie or me and a pre-op
TS. As she skillfully stripped me and began to dress me from her huge
wardrobe, she told me all about herself. She'd been living full time as a
woman for several years, had met Angie a short time back, and Angie had
promised to pay for her surgery if Marla worked for her for two years. She
went on to tell me that before meeting Angie, she'd never had sex with a
woman, always considering herself to be a woman and had only had sex with
the men that would treat her like a woman. However Angie had opened her eyes
to the things she'd been missing and she was now having second thoughts
about the surgery. As a girl with a cock, she'd discovered it was as much
fun to fuck as it was to be fucked.
Then Marla asked me, "She told me all about you and about how the two of you
used to get together in diapers and pee on each other and things like that.
Is that true?"
Since Angie seemed to have blabbed the whole story anyway, it seemed foolish
to deny it. As Marla hooked me into a bustier that was a close match to my
panties, I gave her a short synopsis of that part of my relationship with
Angie.
"Sometimes I wondered if she just made up those stories to get me to try it.
She's gotten me to try it a few times and I do it to please her," Marla
confessed. "But I'm just not into it. Now let me touch up your legs a
little. You don't shave regularly do you?"
At the same time that I wondered - make that worried - what had become of
the conversation between Angie and Andy on my cell phone, I told Marla about
Andy being Amanda and our weekly get together and how I only shaved below
the neck on those days when Amanda and I had something planned. By the time
Marla was helping me hook the garter straps to my stockings, I'd become
comfortable becoming 'Joan' with her help.
Then Angie appeared in the doorway, followed by Connie and Carla and I had
reason to be nervous again. Angie still had my cell phone in her hand, so I
asked her, "Have you been talking to Andy all this time?"
"You mean 'Amanda' don't you?" she countered. Then before I could concede
the point, assuming Andy had told her about his alter ego, she went on. "No,
actually I was talking to Virginia for most of the call."
You could have knocked me over with a feather. No way could I picture Angie
and Virginia having anything in common to talk about. I guess my jaw
bouncing off my padded chest was the reaction Angie was waiting for.
"For your information sweetie, every time you and Miss Amanda get together
to play sissy games, I get together with Virginia."
Not only was my jaw hanging open, I think my breathing had stopped.
"No, not like you're thinking in your dirty sissy mind," Angie told me. "We
don't piss on each other and jump in bed like you sissies do."
That was the first thing she'd said since walking in the room that I had no
problem believing. I knew Virginia was no prude if she would allow Amanda to
meet me for kinky sex once a week. But Amanda had told me she only allowed
him to come to bed dressed as Amanda on very special occasions and had told
him many times it was because she had no desire to have sex with a woman.
And according to Amanda, Virginia wouldn't even consider letting him wear
diapers or get into piss play. But Angie wasn't done with her surprises.
"If you got your prissy ass out of the house once in a while and visited
some of our local attractions, you'd know that the new conservatory at the
Botanical Center is named, 'The Arthur Hanson Conservatory'. And you might
expect that making a seven figure donation like that would get me a seat on
the BC's board of directors. So at least once a week and sometimes more
often, I work at the BC along with other volunteers like Virginia."
Well at least that explained the coincidence. She'd used some of the money
she'd gotten selling her Uncle Arthur's business to have something built in
his name and I knew she loved gardening. We live in a big town and big towns
can generate big coincidences. Or in this case had it? Marla, Angie, Connie
and Carla were all looking at me with those big grins like they knew
something I didn't. Soon it became obvious that Angie wasn't going to say
any more until I responded. So clearing the lump from my throat, I asked a
question so silly that even I had to laugh after I'd asked it.
Pointing at my cell phone in her hand, I asked, "So you've been talking
about plants all this time?"
After all the laughter died down, she told me, "No sweetie. We've been
talking about the plan we've been working on since back around Labor Day.
One day last summer when there were a bunch of us working in one of the
greenhouses, one of the women mentioned a TV show where the guy had loved to
dress up like a baby girl in diapers and everything. I popped off about,
'don't knock it 'til you've tried it,' and the next week Connie and then
Virginia pulled me aside and asked in private if I'd ever known a man that
did that. So I told them about you. I was sort of surprised when Connie told
me about Carla, but I damn near pissed my panties when Virginia told me
about Amanda and his new sissy friend, Joan. So I got the three of us ladies
together for a talk."
I didn't like the sound of that. All of a sudden some of those warning signs
that I'd successfully ignored became a formidable list in my mind, beginning
with running into Angie at the supermarket. It occurred to me after we
exchanged phone numbers and she gave me her address that we lived on
opposite sides of town. I wondered why she'd been buying frozen food so far
from home. And I'd been talking to Amanda on the phone just before going to
the store. "Is Amanda in on your plan?" I asked.
"Of course. Virginia had no problem getting him to agree to go along with
us."
"And the bet - was that part of the plan too?"
"Virginia's idea. As soon as we heard that Atlanta and Detroit were playing
today, we knew this was the perfect time to make it happen."
With timid trepidation, I asked, "Make what happen?"
"Marla is fun and so is Connie and her husband Carl." She paused to enjoy
the look on my face. I'd had no idea that Carla was a man and had been
stealing looks in his direction since I'd figured it out. Then she went on.
"I want you back. And if you won't come willingly, my friends and I are
going to truss you up like that turkey and stuff cock in you until you
change your mind. I love you, you sissy shit head. And from the looks of
that, you love me too."
She was pointing at the lump in my panties that had been growing as she
talked. 'The look' always had that effect on me. But it was more than lust;
I knew she was right. I loved her and always would and that was the reason
why sex with other women hadn't worked. I'd felt like I was cheating on her
memory. I would have loved to take her in my arms and ravish her on the spot
- in spite of our audience. But I also had a few more questions.
"What about Virginia? Why did she go along with this? I don't see why the
bet was necessary."
"We got into some serious discussions about you two sissies and when I told
her about all the fun we'd had, she began to change her mind about being
part of it. A few weeks ago she offered 'Amanda' a chance to spend a whole
weekend with her, including wearing diapers and peeing in his mouth, 'his
all time fantasy of fantasies,' she called it. But for that to happen, he
had to go along with the plan. Of course he did and to her surprise, they
had a great time just like I'd told her she would. So now she wants to watch
you two get it on together and suck some cock. The bet was a backup way to
get us all together. If you and her had won, she was going to offer to make
Amanda serve the both of you at a friend's house. Wanna guess who the friend
is?"
"I think he's crying," I heard Connie whisper to Carla.
Audience or not, I couldn't hold back. I took Angie in my arms in an embrace
that almost embarrassed the other three. We kissed and hugged and kissed
some more and in between I told her how much I loved her and missed her. I
had no idea how many of the other guests were still in the den and could
have cared less. Even when I saw Marla lift Carla's skirt and nuzzle Carla's
cock, I hardly gave it a thought as Angie and I continued to act like newly
weds in their first moment away from the wedding party.
Then the cathedral chimes that served as Angie's doorbell went off and Marla
went to answer the door. Angie gave me that look again and said, "That
should be Virginia and Amanda. Ready to suck some sissy clitty and drink
some pee?"
I thought about the time and concluded if that was Virginia and Amanda, they
had to have been headed in this direction long before the football game was
over. In a way, I had been trussed and stuffed and served up like that
turkey and I couldn't have been happier. I'd just finished a huge meal, but
I ALWAYS had room for piss and cum.
To my great delight, all of the guests were still there and had been in on
the whole scheme. Angie led me into the den to a round of applause and
whistles. Amanda was there with Virginia and Amanda was absolutely glowing.
I knew it was the first time she'd ever been out in public 'en femme'. After
a minute or two of small talk, I asked Amanda, the winner of our bet, "How
may I serve you Miss Amanda?"
The whole crowd went silent as Amanda lifted her skirt so we could all see
she had on a very soggy diaper. Then Angie told me, "I think you know what
to do with a pissy sissy's clitty. If you do a real good job Miss Joanie,
maybe you can spend the night in diapers too. But that's up to Amanda, so
you better suck like you've never sucked before. And when you're done with
that, there's a few more cocks and us ladies to take care of too."
It was the best night I'd had in years and this morning, waking in a wet bed
with Angie in my arms was the beginning of an awesome day.
So now it's Friday afternoon. I'm back at my apartment waiting for the
movers while Virginia, Amanda, Connie, Carla, and my fiancee Angie, help me
box a few things. Angie suggested that while we wait I should write about my
Turkey Day experience for you other sissies to enjoy.
And for your information, Angie paid my rent through the end of the year so
we wouldn't have to rush. But she wasn't taking any chances on me backing
out either. Most of my furniture is going into storage while 'Joan's'
clothes are going into the separate walk-in closet in our master bedroom. As
to John's clothes, Angie has told me he can keep them, but he won't have any
need of them. Little Miss Joanie is going to become a kept woman.
And you know what? John and his dumb ass ego could care less!